


Spectator

by Ceata88



Series: Hanzo Shimada hates Jesse McCree [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Genji was a bit hecked up once, Hanzo actually jealous of McCree's social skills, McGenji is faintly implied, Suicide mention, for now, self harm mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8398003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceata88/pseuds/Ceata88
Summary: There were a lot of things about Jesse McCree that Hanzo Shimada couldn't stand.
The cowboy's ability to effortlessly get along with his brother was one of the worst.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I belted this out in three hours...... I apologize for errors

    Hanzo Shimada couldn’t stand Jesse McCree.  
  
    He couldn’t stand his habit of eating way too much food at breakfast. He couldn’t stand the state of what the man called ‘coffee’. It looked darker than the lake under a full moon and smelled like fertilizer. He couldn’t stand how the man would sleep wherever he pleased, hat lowered over his face.  
  
    Hanzo had tried once to use it as an opportunity, but froze when McCree clicked his revolver.   
  
    The archer left the room and the cowboy went back to sleep.   
  
    He couldn’t stand what he called “classic rock” blaring through the training room. He couldn’t stand the way he sang the lyrics of a song called “Don’t Stop Me Now”.  
  
    But most of all, Hanzo couldn’t stand the way McCree got along so well with Genji.   
  
    Hanzo couldn’t stand McCree, but Genji adored him. Most times when his brother would talk about the cowboy it was nothing but praise, trying to convince Hanzo to quit being so hostile. He never said much in response, judging his brother’s choice in friends.  
  
    But then he’d see them together, usually laughing. Genji would often invite McCree to play games along with the musician Lúcio. Other times they’d be in the den, watching movies with others, always sitting side by side. McCree would whisper something in Genji’s ear and the lights on his armor would flash as he suppressed his laughter.   
  
    It was strange. Even before their fight Hanzo had rarely seen his brother this happy. He tried to tell himself it was because of the omnic’s teachings.   
  
    But he couldn’t ignore the stab of envy that would always dig away at his chest.   
  
    Somehow this cowboy, this fool, was more capable than him at something so important. But Hanzo also knew he had no one to blame but himself.  
  
    “What are you two doing?” Hanzo leaned against the doorway to Genji’s room. Him and McCree sat on the floor, a board placed down between them. It was scattered with pieces that were red and blue.   
  
    “Stratego,” Genji tilted his head. “A game I learned in Blackwatch. We used to play it quite often.”  
  
    “Yeah, Monopoly was banned,” McCree snickered as he moved a piece.   
  
    “Because you were a cheater,” Genji moved a piece onto the same square. “Using card tricks to steal money is rather unfair.”   
  
    “I was the outlaw, just playing up my role.” He turned his piece around. Genji revealed his and knocked McCree’s piece to the side.   
  
    Hanzo tried to figure out the game, ignoring their casual banter. “What kind of game is this?”   
  
    “Hm, vaguely like chess.” Genji said. “But your pieces are hidden to your opponent. You try and knock out their flags, but some pieces rank higher than others.”   
  
    “You can arrange them however you like?”  
  
    “Yup, Commander Reyes was very fond of this game.”   
  
    “He loved any tactic game,” McCree’s smile was soft. “Old man was wicked good at them too. Chess, Risk, hell even Checkers. If you didn’t know him well enough he would line you right up into a shot that would take out five of your pieces.”   
  
    “Ah, but do you remember his reaction when we convinced him to play Mortal Combat?”  
  
    He laughed, “Oh man. You creamed him. Then he tried to make us fight him for real.”  
  
    Both of them chuckled as they continued on with the game. Hanzo studied their moves for a while, the way Genji would look up when McCree thought about his next move. The way the cowboy would stare when the ninja tilted his head.   
  
    Hanzo started to feel nauseous, so he turned around and left.   
  
    He tried to put it out of his mind, but it failed every time the pair were in the same room, which was often. In fact the only time Hanzo found them apart was if Genji was meditating with Zenyatta or McCree was in the training room with him.  
  
    He was still losing to McCree by two points.   
  
    But he thought about Blackwatch, an era of his brother’s life that he barely knew. Genji had never spoken on it, only mentioned it’s where he went after his fight. It’s where he met McCree.   
  
    He became curious now, but wasn’t sure who to ask. Tracer had been there right? But she was young. Winston? The scientist was surprisingly awkward at small talk.  
  
    Reinhardt, now there was a man who liked to talk.   
  
    It was surprisingly easy to find him alone as well, despite how much time he spent with everyone on base. The man seemed to enjoy his peace and quiet during lunch, sitting on the stools along the kitchen counter. Hanzo almost felt bad for interrupting him, but hopefully it wouldn’t take long.   
  
    “May I?” He gestured to the stool.  
  
    Reinhardt looked up from his tablet, having just taken a bite out of his sandwich. He quickly swallowed and flashed a grin.  
  
    “Of course my friend, it’s not often we get to talk.”  
  
    Hanzo considered that was mostly his fault, but sat down. Reinhardt was easy to get along with. He liked to talk but he rarely pried into other people’s business.   
  
    “What can I do for you?” Reinhardt put his tablet down. “It’s not often you approach me.”  
  
    “I apologize,” Hanzo sighed. “I... wanted to ask what you knew about my brother when he was in Blackwatch.”   
  
    The man’s smile dropped and he tugged at his beard. “Hm, Genji? Well he was a little spit fire, that one. Not always in the best way, but a reliable ally.” He laughed before taking another bite of his sandwich.   
  
    Hanzo was well aware of the potential of Genji’s temper, although it seemed to be all but dead by now. “Is he different now than he was back then?”  
  
    “Oh yes,” Reinhardt spoke through the food in his mouth before he swallowed. “Rather distant back then. He usually kept to himself, eventually warmed up to me, Angela, Gabriel and-”  
  
    “McCree.”   
  
    Reinhardt studied him for a moment before smiling again. “Ah, that’s why you’re asking. Why didn’t you just say so?”   
  
    Hanzo turned his gaze away. The man was more observant than he thought.   
  
    “He warmed up to McCree first actually, from what I could tell.” The Crusader pushed his plate to the side and crossed his arms, staring at the ceiling. “I believe Gabriel mentioned it was because they sparred together a lot. Eventually became quite the team, a terror on the battle field.” He laughed and slammed his fist on the counter. “I got to see it in action once, it was incredible. They could read each others moves flawlessly.”  
  
    Hanzo shoved his jealousy down. He’d worry about it later.   
  
    “But sometimes they fought,” Reinhardt sighed. “Nasty fights too. And he... ah well, perhaps those are questions to ask him.”   
  
    “What do you mean?”  
  
    “Well my friend, it’s Genji’s history, not mine. I assume you’re inquiring about this to understand why he and McCree get along so well.”   
  
    “That is-”  
  
    “I also understand you don’t like McCree. He’s got a sharp tongue and an even shaper wit.” He pulled his sandwich plate back. “But I’ve hardly met a more loyal man in my lifetime.”   
  
    Hanzo had heard that before from Genji. “I see, thank you.”   
  
    “Not at all, my friend. Come join us more often.”  
  
    The archer nodded, considered the offer, but left without another word.   
  
    In the end it would be better to ask Genji, wouldn’t it?   
  
    Hanzo got his chance when the monk was called away for a mission, with McCree no less. Without Zenyatta around he asked Genji if he could join him in meditation.  
  
    Not that they got much of that done.  
  
    “I can tell there’s something on your mind.” Genji sat next to him on the cliff side. “I assume you came out here to discuss it.”   
  
    Hanzo sighed. “What gave it away?”  
  
    “You’re biting the inside of your cheek.” The ninja pointed. “Always a give away.”   
  
    He snorted and resisted the urge to repeat the habit. “Very well, I wanted to inquire about your relationship with McCree.”   
  
    “Oh? What about it?”   
  
    “How did you get this close?”  
  
    Genji hummed, his visor flashing. “I know you can’t stand him, brother, so this probably won’t mean much, but Jesse is very easy to get along with.”   
  
    “Your personalities are similar,” Hanzo crossed his arms. “But that doesn’t quite answer my question. I’m referring to your time in Blackwatch.”   
  
    “Oh,” the ninja turned his gaze back to the ocean. “Well, things were different back then.”  
  
    Hanzo didn’t reply. He just stared at his brother and waited. It’s not like he planned to leave without an answer anyway.   
  
    “Jesse was... loyal. Reliable. I intended to stay away from everyone there, apart from my commander and my doctor, but he kept running into me. Insisted on training with me. I tried to scare him off but any insults I used just made him laugh. My anger was met with humor, and on days it was bad enough he’d just shrug and give me some space.  
  
    “Eventually his presence became a constant. He tagged along on many of my missions and I... am grateful for that. Regardless of my duty or my bitterness towards our family, taking them down was still hard. I could rarely hold it together when the jobs were finished.”   
  
    Hanzo held his breath and looked away. He’d heard tell of an omnic warrior who’d been taking out their family piece by piece. Only now did he realize how obvious the identity culprit was.   
  
    He hadn’t gotten involved back then, he was no longer part of the clan after all.   
  
    “Actually, thinking about it,” Genji’s laughter was hollow. “I could barely hold it together at all. Dealing with my missions, what I was turned into... what you did to me. None of it was easy. I frequently let myself get damaged on purpose. Jesse wasn’t fond of it, sometimes it would escalate into a fight. I usually won, not because he was a bad fighter, but because he rarely fought back. I broke his nose twice, broke his arm once.”  
  
    Hanzo flinched, “Are you serious?”  
  
    “I was not in a good place back then, Hanzo. I suppose I said it before but I wasn’t clear. My emotions were out of control. Forcing them back only resulted in them coming out later. Sometimes I hated the idea that Jesse was friends with me. I couldn’t except the state I was in and expected everyone else to think the same way.”   
  
    Genji took a deep breath. “He consistently put himself in harms way to keep me out of it. Back then I didn’t understand, but I do now.”  
  
    Hanzo frowned. “Why did he care so much?”  
  
    His brother laughed. “You can ask him that yourself. Perhaps it would be a good chance for you two to mend your relationship.”  
  
    “I want no such thing from him.”  
  
    “Well, you will get no answers from me.”   
  
    “And what about you? What on earth do you see in a man like him?”  
  
    Genji stared at him for a moment before he shrugged. “He makes me laugh.”  
  
    “Be serious.”  
  
    “I am. Back then I was angry, sad, frustrated, laughter was the only genuine escape from it all, and Jesse could provide it in spades. He’d drop anything he was doing to at least drop a quick joke. He dragged me along many of his pranks, oh how I missed those. Many people there treated me like a weapon but around Jesse I felt... human.”   
  
    There was a dull ache in his chest. Hanzo had told himself many times that it couldn’t have been easy for Genji, considering everything that happened, but he never saw it. The only Genji he knew was the one from their childhood and the one sitting next to him now.  
  
    Perhaps there was a lot of catching up to do.  
  
    “When I speak to McCree,” his breath shook. “Perhaps you can tell me more about Blackwatch.”   
  
    “I would not mind,” Genji said. “But if I may be honest, you may want to prepare yourself. I will not hold back.”   
  
    Hanzo nodded and followed the fear that rose up in his throat.   
  
    He needed to know. If he was ever going to atone for this he needed to know.  
  
    But first he had to talk to McCree.   
  
    A conversation he dreaded for a number of reasons. If he managed to get the cowboy to actually discuss it–by some miracle–it would no doubt be full of snark and insults.   
  
    At least cornering him was easy as he waited in the shooting range. Another day of trying to shoot down the most targets. Too bad the contest would have to wait.   
  
    McCree came in, humming a tune and tapping his spurs to the rhythm. He spun around on his heel, giggling like a secondary school student.   
  
    “You’re in high spirits.” Hanzo comments from his spot against the wall.   
  
    “Just thinkin’.” He paused his dance. “You ready to rumble?”  
  
    “Actually, I wished to speak to you first.”  
  
    “Hana’s the one who stole your ice cream... things. Mochi wasn’t it?” McCree seemed to not be paying him any mind, grabbing some ammo.   
  
    Hanzo frowned. “Those weren’t mine, and that’s not what I wanted to discuss.”   
  
    “Well, for lack of a better term, fire away Hanzo.” He snickered as he loaded rounds into the cylinder of his gun.   
  
    “I wanted to know how you and my brother became so close.”  
  
    McCree snapped the gun shut, the smile vanishing from his face. “What for?”   
  
    “I’m curious.”   
  
    “Don’t want to ask him?”  
  
    “I did, but he only told me his side of the situation. I wondered why you... insisted on helping him so much.”   
  
    McCree’s eyes stayed fixed on his gun before he wandered over to the range. “Do you know why I hate you so much?”  
  
    Hanzo flinched. “Because I attempted to murder you several times?”  
  
    The cowboy laughed, firing off a couple of rounds. “Yeah, that would be anyone’s first guess, wouldn’t it? But nah, that’s not it really. I’ve had plenty of people attempt to murder me. I hate you so much cause you attempted to murder your brother.”   
  
    Another round went off. The clatter of an empty shell reminded Hanzo to breath.   
  
    “Dunno if Genji told you what he was like back then, but it was a mess. He was a mess.” Another round. “He ever give you the lovely details of that?”  
  
    “Only a few.” Hanzo gripped his sleeve. His instinct told him to argue back but he didn’t. There was nothing to say.   
  
    “I actually liked him when we first met, down in the training room. He was trying to get used to his new body still, a little frustrated with the whole thing. I offered to let him spar with me.”  
  
    McCree laughed, setting off the last two rounds. “Your brother has the same sharp tongue you do, you know. He was spittin’ insults the whole time, but I couldn’t help but admire him. For someone who didn’t speak English as his first language he sure had a way with words.”   
  
    McCree tapped the barrel of his gun against his hat. “I just kept showing up after that. He kept insulting me, but never really asked me to leave. Was kind of nice in a way. Someone close to my age who also felt the sting of betrayal.”   
  
    Hanzo didn’t miss the smile the cowboy gave him, twirling his gun in his hand.   
  
    “I liked your brother, that’s all there was to it. Had his harsh moments but he was also the guy I could count on for any of my prank ideas. Never met someone so eager to stay up until three AM just putting cups of water all over the floor.”   
  
    The archer sighed and the realization that he could picture his brother doing that. No doubt his enhancements made the task much easier.   
  
    “He told me he broke your nose twice, and your arm once.”  
  
    McCree reloaded his gun, holding one of the bullets between his teeth. “Yup, sure did. Dunno if he told you but he had a habit of tearing himself up, on and off the battle field.” He took the bullet out of his mouth. “Caught him ripping out his own wires more than once. Trying to stop him resulted in a fight, and I don’t know if you noticed but your bro is pretty damn strong.”  
  
    Hanzo had noticed. He was fairly certain Genji had been holding back during their fight.   
  
    “So yeah, two broken noses, one broken arm. But hell, you know, I’d take a broken arm any day if it kept him alive.”   
  
    The archer’s grip tightened again, possibly bruising his arm. “What do you mean?”   
  
    McCree blinked, his expression empty. He snapped his gun shut and lowered his hat over his eyes. “Dunno if it’s my business to say, but your brother wasn’t really glad to be alive back then. Threw himself into battle a lot just to see if he wouldn’t come back from it. Some days when that didn’t cut it, he tried to take care of it himself.”   
  
    Hanzo mouth fell open. His vision was going blurry and he blinked, trying to keep himself focused.   
  
    “He was a real piece of work you know. Some days he’d cuss out everyone he knew, in three languages. He’d break equipment, limbs, his own limbs, some days getting close to him was like trying to pet a wild tiger. He’d barely talk to anyone, and the people he did talk to he’d still insult on the regular. It’s a miracle he never got thrown out.”  
  
    The cowboy strode back over to the range. Hanzo didn’t say anything for a while, the sounds of gunfire making him curl up.   
  
   _“I will not give you the death you wish for.”_   
  
    Genji had stopped back then because he knew. He understood. Throwing yourself into danger, insulting your enemies and your allies, hoping one of them will be angry enough to give you what you deserve.   
  
    He bit his lip to force back any tears. He refused to cry in front of the cowboy.  
  
    “If it was that bad,” he said. “Why did you stay?”   
  
    “Cause it wasn’t always that bad. I told you he was a regular prankster.” McCree picked up one of the empty shells and rolled it between his fingers. “Some days were okay. Some days I got to see the real Genji. The one who’d listen to me while I’d ramble on cause I had too much whisky. The one who was nothing but patient as he showed me better spots to aim if I wanted to fight dirty. The one who’d kick my ass at mortal combat every night, or whatever game we’d play. Who laughed with me until four in the morning over stupid internet videos until Gabe came crashing in screaming at us.  
  
    “Hell, Hanzo, I love your brother. No point in being shy about it.” He tossed the shell to the side. “You have no idea how damn excited I was to see him again, to see how much better he’s doing. He laughs all the time now and it never gets old, because I remember what it was like when he wouldn’t.”   
  
    McCree put his gun away as he wandered over, cornering Hanzo against the wall. “That’s why I hate your guts. That’s why if I knew you were coming after me back then I would have fired back, because boy did I hate you. But Genji asked me to play nice, so this is me, playing nice.”   
  
    Hanzo frowned, not in the mood to be intimidated.   
  
    “Now, all of that aside, why are you really asking?” McCree tipped his hat back up. “Curiosity is too simple an answer.”   
  
    The archer kept up his glare, but let out a sigh. “You get along with him rather well. I... envy it.”   
  
    McCree blinked, his expression softening as he stood up straight. The silence was unbearable and Hanzo had to finally turn away. He never should have said anything.  
  
    “Well hell, why didn’t you just say so?” McCree slapped him on the arm, making him jump. “No need for me to give a speech there. How about some advice?”  
  
    No. I don’t want any advice from you. What could a fool like you understand.  
  
    Hanzo bit back his own thoughts and nodded.   
  
    “First of all, stop skulking around like an injured coyote and get to know your teammates.” McCree stepped over to the gun cabinet and grabbed a pistol. “Hana and Lúcio throw game nights every Wednesday. There’s a movie night on Friday. Reinhardt and Torb are gonna start a new DnD campaign soon, if that’s your thing.”   
  
    He loaded up the pistol with a clip and headed back over. “Genji loves fighting games and board games. Stratego might be two player but Risk isn’t. There’s also Sternhalma and Uno. If you like I can teach you how to play poker, unless you already know, and I’m certain there’s other games you and Genji are familiar with.”  
  
    McCree held out the pistol, handle first. “Relax a bit, have some fun. I know you two have a lot to work on but it’s easier to do when you learn how to laugh again, yeah?”   
  
    Hanzo stared at the weapon before glancing back up. McCree’s expression was surprisingly gentle, fond even. As if he didn’t just state that he hated Hanzo moments ago.   
  
    The archer swallowed the lump in his throat before he nodded, taking the gun. It was sound advice. Perhaps if he made an effort to settle in here everything else would come just a bit easier.   
  
    Perhaps he and McCree could at least stop this hostility.   
  
    “Alright, shooting time. Let’s see how good you do today, huh?”   
  
    Hanzo took a deep breath, adjusting the gun in his grip as he stepped over to his lane. McCree went to set up the simulation.   
  
    He kept his focus as the targets flew by. His reloading time was quicker than before, something to be proud of. Perhaps sometime he could rework his skills with a rifle.   
  
    “Hey, nice work.” McCree hummed before he danced back out of the room.  
  
    Hanzo only lost by one point.   
  
    The next morning he wandered past the den, just heading out of the kitchen. Mei had caught him making tea, surprisingly up early for once. She apologized, saying she wouldn’t be long but Hanzo assured her it was fine. In fact he decided to inquire about her research. Her face brightened as she talked, but it was eventually cut off by a yawn and she insisted she needed coffee first.   
  
    He saw Genji, McCree and the Bastion unit huddled around the coffee table, colorful cards stacked in the middle. The omnic had been brought here a month ago by a persistent Lúcio. While still not officially an agent they’d gained clearance to move around the base.   
  
    “Damn,” McCree  dropped his cards. “You win again.”  
  
    The unit seemed to laugh, the yellow bird on their shoulder tweeting along.   
  
    “No need to be a sore loser Jesse.” Genji taunted.   
  
    “At least I had less cards than you, darlin’.” He leaned on the table, a sly smile on his face.  
  
    Bastion beeped again, looking directly at Hanzo. The other two men at the table turned.   
  
    “Hello, Hanzo.” Genji said.  
  
    “Hello,” he kept studying the cards, trying to make sense of one of the symbols.   
  
    “Howdy, care to join us for a round of Uno?” McCree snatched up the cards, shuffling them between his hands. His hands were quick, and soon enough a freshly shuffled deck sat in the center of the table.   
  
    The game looked childish. Wasn’t Uno Spanish for one? What did that have to do with it?  
  
    But as he glanced between the three of them he found himself wandering over, sitting down at the empty side of the table.   
  
    “How do you play?”   
  
    McCree laughed. Genji just sat there stunned for a moment.  
  
    “It’s easy, pal. I’ll show you.” The cowboy scooted closer as he snapped up half the deck, fanning out the cards.   
  
    Hanzo could tolerate the minor insults he threw his way as he explained the game. He could tolerate his noisy shouts when he was forced to draw two cards. He could tolerate his ridiculous laugh and the clinking of the spurs under the table as Bastion played another draw two card.  
  
    “Oh jesus,” the cowboy wheezed. “When this ends some sucker’s going to have to draw twenty cards.”   
  
    That sucker was Hanzo.  
  
    But he could tolerate he cowboy laughing at his expense, because his brother was as well. He could tolerate the smiles and gazes–which were much more than “friendly”–being thrown in Genji’s direction. He could tolerate the tapping of McCree’s metal prosthetic on the wooden table. He could tolerate the strings of Spanish phrases that he couldn’t catch.  
  
    Hanzo Shimada could tolerate Jesse McCree.

**Author's Note:**

> You know considering my main fic is McHanzo u wouldn't think I was this trash for McGenji... but I am 
> 
> Also if you guys play Uno with the rule that you can stack draw twos it makes the game a hell of a lot more intense. (And yes we had a huge group playing it once and a guy had to draw TWENTY FOUR CARDS it was incredible)


End file.
